


To Call a Swallow

by BurningBehindMyEyes



Series: Birds of a Feather [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Winged, Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Running Away
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-05-16 18:31:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14816630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningBehindMyEyes/pseuds/BurningBehindMyEyes
Summary: Colin had never really listened to Her before. She had pushed him towards the other, tried to make him play nice with other Winged children, but he had always been pessimistic and they cried when he told stories, so he never tried. He had seen things the others hadn't and after months of prodding to no end, She gave up on him. Colin thought he could escape Gotham City, find a new place to live after the smoke cleared. Dash off in the wake of the chaos She sowed, and it would be the first good thing She had ever done for him.Instead, he's on a fool's mission with two determined older brothers trying to find an emotionally constipated man-child who was hurt by his equally emotionally constipated father. Yet still, at the end of it all, Colin finds he doesn't regret a single damn thing, and maybe, just maybe, he should listen to Her more often.





	1. Summons

**Author's Note:**

> Whew! Part 2!

Tim didn’t know what to do. He broke down, he dealt with his emotions by taking them out on Bruce. Now, he needed a plan. He looked up, flaming determination in his eyes as he stared straight ahead, taking in Dick, who just arrived from a police car, leaping into action and sprinting to their location. Dick looked haggard, police uniform hastily thrown on, and his cap on sideways. His shoelaces were undone, and his eyes were cold.

Colin. Roughly Damian’s age, and looking a little traumatized, but there was something in his eyes that promised Tim that he had been through worse. The main feature, beyond his bright red hair, were his absolutely massive wings. The kid had wings easily three times the size of Damian’s. Damian’s were smaller, tailored to his body. However, if Tim had to hazard a guess, he’d say that Colin’s wingspan was 300cm, sharp, and pointed, with an emphasis on acceleration. Tim could see the sheer muscle moving with Colin as he shuffled his wings nervously, kicking his feet into the dirt. Tim could count 12 massive primary feathers, dragging along the ground as Colin stepped forwards. They looked rough, as if Colin didn’t exactly take care of them often. However, if they dragged along the ground normally, it’d make sense that they’d be a little ruffled.

“I can help you find him.” Colin’s voice shook as he let the offer out. Tim’s eyes widened, hope blossoming in his chest. “She will tell me where he is. She’s worried about him, and She thinks you can help him. If She is calling me, I will go.” Colin steps forward once more, determination shining in his eyes. His red hair ruffles slightly as the Wind pushes at him strongly, nearly shining in Her approval.

“Tim Drake. Robin.” Tim says, quirking one side of his lips up and holding his hand out to shake. He saw Bruce visibly jolt at that, and Tim smiled at the wonder in Colin’s eyes as he took his hand with an iron grip. Tim nearly winced in pain, feeling Colin’s fingers dig into his own with a bruising hold. “One good handshake you have there, Colin.” Tim grinned.

“Yeah, sorry. My powers get out of control sometimes.” Colin smiled in response, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“Where’s Damian?! Bruce, where is Damian?” Dick has reached them, and is looking around, expecting to see the smallest step out from behind the shadows at any moment. Bruce looks away, gritting his teeth and clenching his teeth, in full uniform, the Batjet parked behind him. Surrounding it, the League watches on, Superman’s passive stare and Wonder Woman’s _definitely_ judgemental gaze upon them. Tim can hear the Flash whistling obnoxiously and somehow that grounds him.

“Damian left Gotham.” Tim sighed, turning on his left foot and facing Dick. He knows he looks like a mess - red cheeks, flaming nose, and bloodshot eyes. Dirt and grime cover his body, along with a less-than-healthy layer of dust. His clothes are in tatters, and Tim’s fairly certain that part of his hair caught on fire when trying to save people. But it doesn’t matter - he needed a haircut anyway. Tim stares down Dick’s confused and concerned look. He didn’t know Damian for long, but Tim knew all too well that in Dick’s mind, Damian was already loved, even if the child himself didn’t know it. Dick was the master of putting up fronts to distract from the fact he wasn’t okay. Tim and Jason both used humour to distance themselves from their weaknesses. Tim was pretty sure Dick had seen through Damian right from the beginning.

“Damian is a Winged.” Bruce’s gruff voice came through the cowl, and _oh,_ Tim forgot, Bruce forgot how to be human while still inside the suit. “I found a recording of him stepping into a camera’s field of view with his wings out.” Bruce looked away, face expressionless and eyes distant. “I just…” he sighed, and ran a hand over the top of the cowl, curling his fingers into a fist afterwards. “I didn’t want him to be scared.”

Tim blinked.

“I didn’t mean to startle him. I know I have issues. But Damian… Damian is my son. I didn’t want him to think that I… didn’t want him.” Bruce made eye contact for the first time with Tim as he stood in stunned silence. “I can understand that I’m not the best option to go look for him. He’d probably get scared and run off, and he would keep running until I cornered him. I don’t want to do that to him. If you need anything, and I mean _anything_ ,” Bruce narrowed his eyes, his mouth settling into a thin line, and finally, Tim saw what he had been missing all this time. The desperation of a father trying to save his son. “Just let me know. I’ll provide it.” Bruce looked mildly furious, fingers twitching slightly as he regarded them. Tim could see the harsh acceptance in Bruce’s eyes, and if the hesitation in his jaw movements was anything to go by, Bruce was still having a hard time with it.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” Tim murmured, still shocked in silence. He could feel his jaw unhinging as Bruce’s words sunk in. Tim had always been under the impression that Bruce would kill any Winged… regardless. “You know his power isn’t particularly dangerous, right?” Tim asked, blinking up at the man. Bruce shook his head, shrugging slightly. “He can change his vocal chords to sound like anyone, or anything.” Bruce nodded, a faint smile on his face. He sunk back into his cape, hiding his face, and Tim knew he needed time to think. This was a big change for Bruce. The man spent years studying them, and learning about them. He had to have seen what Tim had seen. Somewhere, Tim believed there was hope for him.

Tim turned to Dick, whose brow was furrowed. When Tim noticed the hard line to his mouth, he shook his head.

“Dick, I don’t-”

“I’m going. If you try to stop me, I’ll track you.” Dick shook Tim off, fixing him with a glare that shut Tim up quick. “Damian is my little brother. You’re my little brother. I would do the same for any of my family. I’m not letting you leave me behind. You, the redhead, your name is… Colin, right?” Dick turned to Colin, police badges shining on his shirt, baton tucked into his belt. “You can hear him?”

“No, I can hear Her. She tells me where he is.” Colin said, widening his stance and dropping his eyebrows. The Wind began to swirl at him, pushing him backwards and ruffling his secondary feathers.

“She seems to be rougher with you.” Tim noted, feeling how the Wind swirled around Colin with powerful gusts.

“She is different with everyone.” Colin shrugged. “Her influence on us is limited by how much we listen to Her. If we have a track record of ignoring Her, then She becomes rougher in turn. But those who let Her in unconditionally tend to get treated like easily shattered glass. She doesn’t have to remind them that She can blow them over into unfriendly air currents because they listen to Her. She plays favourites. Some need more help than others, and She’ll spent more time with them if She thinks they need the support. She’s fairly lazy, though. If She can’t get into the space around one of us, She usually just gives up and trusts that we’ll be alright.” at Tim’s incredulous look, Colin raised an eyebrow, his tone turning sarcastic. “Just because She’s the Wind itself doesn’t mean She’s always right.” Colin gestured to the destruction behind him, turning and furrowing his eyebrows. “There will not be just human casualties from this disaster.” Colin mumbled the last part, angrily hitting his ratty sneaker into the ground.

“C’mon.” Dick gently walked up to Colin, his arm hovering around Colin’s shoulders. When Colin relaxed, Dick gently laid his arm upon Colin’s massive shoulders, carefully pulling the boy into his side. “Let’s go to the Manor, get you cleaned up. Some new clothes, maybe? We can head out tomorrow.”

Colin shook his head, narrowing his eyes as the Wind pushed at him, easing off the second he shook his head. “No. He’ll be too far ahead of us. I don’t know why, She seems to think he’ll be gone.”

Dick nodded mutely, watching as the League members who answered Bruce’s call left, explosive power in their wake. He steered Colin towards the Bat-jet as Bruce entered it, the jet flaring to life, lights turning on and the engine roaring. Dick and Colin walked ahead of Tim, who hobbled behind them, finally feeling the exhaustion of the fight. It was getting pretty dark outside, the wailing sirens the only light in the destroyed city.

\---

Knuckles white, hands gripping the steering wheel with an iron grip. Breathe in, breathe out. Count your steps. Count the seconds. Keep staring ahead, keep going until you can’t anymore. Bruce’s eyes stayed steady, kept watching the horizon, gently flying downwards, wings barely fitting inside the opening on the side of waterfall, the water falling atop the jet with a soothing pitter-patter. Anxiety burst into his stomach, cold rushing through him from his stomach. Butterflies flew around, his nerves alight and buzzing. His hands twitched, his spine straightening. He curled and uncurled his fingers, feeling the rough leather of the steering wheel scratch against his callused hands.

It was old. He knew that. The flash of crimson wings, blood soaked pavement, the hot smoking hole found in the creature’s forehead. The eye that had been there only moments before.

His mother’s pearls falling to the ground and scattering.

Bruce sighed as he landed the jet, standing up. He opened the door and exited, hearing the quiet chatter of his children as they ushered Colin away from the monitors. Colin reminded Bruce of himself. Jaded. Roughened edge. Shaped by his demons.

Bruce look a glance behind him, feeling his heartbeat jump as he watched the large wings drag across the floor, Dick swearing and nearly stepping on one of Colin’s feathers. The boy snarled, eyes narrowing, as he tucked his wings closer into his body, tension heavy in his shoulders. Bruce watched as Dick held his hands up placatingly and apologized, Colin relaxing in turn. When Dick blinked at the feathers, Tim lightly pushed him away and shook his head roughly. Bruce watched Dick immediately back off, taking a step away and eying the smallest carefully. Bruce looked up, watched Alfred enter the room.

The man glanced around, took note of Bruce’s hunched over form, grief etched in his shoulders, the desperate purpose to Tim’s gait, the rarely-serious expression on Dick’s face, and the presence of another Winged. Bruce could see Alfred stagger emotionally, his head bowing and his eyes closing. The older gentlemen raised his head, set his shoulders, wiped a tear from forming in the corner of his eye, and went down the stairs, joining the trio. When Alfred turned his back, Bruce jolted.

Alfred had been wearing an earring, but the earring itself was long enough it had fallen onto his back. Standing out starkly on Alfred’s pristine black uniform, was a mockingbird feather, half grey, half white. Perfectly groomed, the earring looped through the thickest part of the shaft, a thin hole drilled to allow the metal to loop through it. As he joined the group, Alfred brought the earring to the front of his suit, Colin’s eyes widening.

As they exited the Cave, Bruce watched Colin step slightly towards Alfred, allowing the man proximity none of the others had been granted. The door shut softly behind them, cutting off Alfred’s mention of snacks in the kitchen.

Bruce brought a hand to his face, taking off some of the dried blood, and watching it flake off of his face. Crimson blood. Stained suits. White dresses that now ran red. Bruce had gone so long without his father, without his mother. He had blamed an entire species for the actions of one. Winged were dangerous - they needed to be watched carefully. No second chances. But perhaps, Bruce mused, that was the problem.

Damian had never had any chances to begin with, and that failure, was completely on Bruce’s own stubborn, selfish head.

It was time to clean up the mess he had made.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They leave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I just wanted to let you guys know the reason for the delay. I was diagnosed with General Anxiety Disorder, so all writing has been put on the back burner while I get my life together. Sorry! >-<

Colin wandered into the Cave, the entrance left open, a cookie in his left hand.

He had been born with wings too large for his body. He had never been able to cage them in tattoos on his back - they were too large and heavy for that. His mother had hidden him, his father vanishing in the face of police searches throughout the city. His mother had always held concern as she brushed his down feathers, preening him through his molts, always gentle despite the unbridled power that he hosted. They hadn’t discovered why until Colin had transformed for the first time, the red orange circles unleashing under his feet.

Fire had bloomed in his blood, explosives in his veins, shedding his skin and expanding it. His muscles solidified and for the first time, his wings had felt just _right_. It hadn’t been enough, anyways. His transformation couldn’t heal the gash in her head, thin skull caved in from a blow from the butt end of a rifle. Blood leaked out from the shattered remains, bits of light gray sinking out that Colin refused to acknowledge.

He fought his way out, eventually finding his way to the nuns before collapsing in the Sister’s arms. He understood loss, every one of the Winged in this city. Standing in the darkest pits of hell, Colin brought to mind the whispers he had heard. _The Batman comes at night,_ scared faces of terrified children blindsided by the bashing upon the doors, officers looking for something they’d come far too close to finding for comfort. _That’s when it takes you away._ Colin eyed the man silently, watching the caped back bow over a table, hands gripping it far too tightly. _It brings you to a place with nothing but needles and surgery tables._

_They say it takes your wings. It’s wings will never molt. Made out of leather and shadows, it’ll never truly fly. It wants to fly and it thinks it can by hurting others._

Colin wondered what he thought. Years of hatred for a species wasn’t overcome in moments by one small child. He knew that well enough - so what really was going through his head?

“Batman.”

_That’s why._

A cowled face looked up, and Colin could make up the stubble on the man’s chin, human eyes staring back at him. Colin wondered what had happened to him.

_He’s never been free._

“You don’t just fix Winged. We’re not human, we’re a separate species. There’s no going between the two.” Colin sighed, stepping forwards. “And you don’t understand us.” Colin tilted his head, primaries dragging on the floor as he lifted his wings, trying to relieve the strain on his upper back. “I don’t know this kid, but he is Winged. He Sings. You shut his voice out and we will find you.” the man’s eyes were haunted, but steel. Colin grinned. “Shut in shadows, child thief, feather ripper, soul stealer, so be it. Your wrath is nothing compared to mine.” Colin giggled, tilting his head backwards to peer at Tim coming back from the kitchen.

“We’ll have to find him quickly.” Colin murmured, stepping away from Bruce and accepting the glass of milk Tim offered. Cookies and milk were a favourite for anyone. “Emotional separation doesn’t exactly do wonders for us, you know.” Colin took a step, considering his options thoughtfully. “I’ve fought the madness that comes with it. However,” Colin turned when Alfred entered the room, eyes zeroing in on the mockingbird feather hanging proudly from Alfred’s ear. “He may have had more of a flock than I thought.”

“A flock?” Dick was right behind Alfred, eyes scanning Colin’s defensive stance before glancing at Bruce’s distracted. He raised an eyebrow but neglected to comment, stepping around Alfred and sitting on the railing, sliding down the bar. “I thought only Winged could be part of flocks.”

“Technically that isn’t true. Flock means family. That,” Colin pointed at Alfred’s earring. “Is the first sign of one. When one wants to create a family, they begin by plucking their feathers and handing them out to the people they want to ask.” Colin explained. “I’ve heard of it happening with humans before, but it’s rare. It wouldn’t happen in this city. Damian should have an idea of your physical and emotional state, as well as-”

“I am aware of the changes it brings, Master Colin.” Alfred’s voice was dry and left no room for argument. “He explained himself before sealing the bond. It was a conscious and informed decision on my part. I was also told that it isn’t something that others should be inquiring after.” Alfred raised an eyebrow, pursuing his lips. “On the other hand,” Alfred smoothed over his pristine, wrinkle-free shirt and turned sharply on his heel. “You should be leaving soon if you wish for any hope of finding him. He’s moving quickly.” Alfred strode off, back upstairs, anger making the muscles in his back tense.

Colin watched him go, shame written across his face. He looked down, allowing his hair to cover his face, scuffing the tip of his worn shoes on the floor. “He’s right though.” Colin breathed, twisting a finger around. “We need to start moving.” Colin glanced upwards at Tim, watching as the man crossed his arms. “If you want my help, we’re doing this my way.” Colin said, puffing out his chest. “If we take any large vehicles he’ll know we’re onto him, we need to-”

“The bikes.” Dick murmured. “Mine is built for stealth and speed, it’s quiet. Tim, your’s is built for traction in off roads, right?” Dick turned to Tim, who nodded solemnly. 

“It should have a half decent amount of storage.” Tim grinned. “We can pack emergency supplies. It’s big enough to fit you, if you’d like.” Tim turned to Colin, who grinned sheepishly and lifted a hand.

“No thanks, I’ll fly alongside and scout from the air. She’ll have the most contact with me up there anyways. I think I have a half decent idea where she’s leading him though.” Colin murmured, looking away, red bangs flying out of his face as he huffed. “Oddly enough, the western world has yet to catch up with the eastern side of the globe. The East Siberian Forest in Russia, second largest in the world. It, along with the Amazon Rainforest, houses two of the safest places in the world for Winged, just different climates for different preferences. I would assume that She’s leading him there to try to make him stay, but I don’t know why She’s helping us at all. It’s suspicious.” a strong gust of wind attacked Colin, nearly bowling him over. A high pitched noise sprung up from nowhere, Colin wincing and covering his ears.

After a few tense seconds, it settled back into the calm. Colin glared into the air, releasing his ears and muttering some tense phrases into his hands.

“I’m sure he meant no offence.” Alfred continued delicately. “It is suspicious.” the wind picked up in front of Alfred’s face, ruffling his coat. The man narrowed his eyes, lowering his eyebrows, and stared with a stone cold disposition into the void. The man reached out a hand, feeling Her curl around his fingers. She wasn’t truly paying attention, not to them, and Alfred dispersed her consciousness with an aggravated wave of his gloved hand. “You need to leave, soon. If you’re to track him, a single person moving through undergrowth on foot, you’ll need to go before the weather turns and the tracks are still there.”

“Bruce.” Dick turned to Bruce, his face hard and his eyes leaving no room for argument. “I need you to look after Bludhaven while I’m gone. Also… try to take care of yourself, alright?” Dick’s eyes softened. “Call in the League if you need help. They’ll answer.”

To that, Bruce nodded stiffly, stepping away and setting his jaw. Colin could understand how he felt, after all, it wouldn’t do well for his image for him to have to constantly be calling for assistance. Colin shook his head, the red hair floating in front of his vision before he brushed the bangs away. Colin looked back up from studying his hair, watching as Dick gently clasped Bruce on the shoulder before moving in towards the wall, where a light grey button resided.

“They’ll be in here.” Dick gestured for Tim and Colin to step onto the little platform, and Colin did so, but kept his wings at the ready in the event that someone tried to shove him off. Dick pressed the button, the small ‘ding’ echoing through the cave, silent except for the squeaking of bats along the ceiling.

The platform raised, quickly ascending into a tube of metal. Colin stared down, watching as Bruce and Alfred’s impassive faces vanished from under the construction of their design. Colin felt the platform come to a smooth stop, gently easing into the walls locking onto the edges to keep it stable. A double, automatic door opened in front of them, allowing them passage.

Dick hesitated slightly, Colin sarcastically bowing to indicate that the older man should go first. Dick grinned sheepishly before stepping through, his footsteps muffled against the material of the ground. Tim shrugged and follow, Colin bringing up the rear, feathers dragging against the ground. Lined along the walls were different mechanical parts and diagrams, one particular section being absolutely covered in blueprints for a motorcycle.

Colin recognized Dick’s signature Nightwing symbol along them, humming softly. It was a beautiful piece of machinery.

“We should leave soon.” Colin felt the Wind pull at his hair, kisses and caresses for finding Her child. “She’s leading him away and trying to get us to find him. Not sure what game She’s playing,” for that, Colin jerked his arm as the wind hardened into a blade, blood trickling down his arm for the offence against his maker. “But we need to play along for now.”

Dick pressed a button, a blue light scanning his hand and eye, before beeping and lowering the door to allow them entrance. Tim pressed another button, a larger door opening at the end of the new area. Several racks of bikes were stored along the walls, stuck behind translucent doors. Tim stepped up to a keypad, typing in some commands. Colin blinked as the doors moved, organizing to find the ones Tim was looking for. Colin could finally breathe the fresh air, seeing the larger door open to reveal glistening dew sitting on fresh grass, the sky twinkling merrily. Colin could _taste_ the fresh air.

Colin lifted his wings, massive wingspan dwarfing them all and sending shadows scattering against Dick and Tim’s faces. The muscles in his back groaned in relief as the Wind floated to push him up insistently. Colin snapped the wings closer to his body, leaping into the air and catching one of the soft breezes from the outside. Colin soared from out of the hole in the Cave, curling his wings around his body a few scant seconds before he hit the waterfall, spinning around to his back as droplets flew around his body. He heard the roar of engines a moment later, looking down to see Tim and Dick ripping out of the Cave on bikes, helmets obscuring his face.

With the two following underneath them, Colin closed his eyes and lost himself in Her Song, barely paying attention when She hoisted him up and sent him flying across the air.

He had missed this freedom.


End file.
